Battlefront Ireland
by Cariel
Summary: Voldemort defeated Harry the first time around, but it didn’t stop his friends from rallying to his cause. Seamus and the Irish faction have other plans, while in Scotland, Neville falls in love with a Muggle and has to make a difficult choice.
1. Muggle Sanctuary

A/N: This was originally written February of 2005, prior to the release of Half-Blood Prince and Deathly Hollows. Please disregard any inconsistencies with the last two books and remember that this is an AU. Thank you.

_'I am in search of a young man and Johnny is his name,_  
_ And on the banks of Claudy I'm told he does remain._  
_ If Johnny he was here this night he would keep me from all harm_  
_ But he's in the field of battle all in his uniform,_  
_ He is in the field of battle his foes he will destroy,_  
_ Like a roaring King of honour all in the wars of Troy.'_

Ever since Harry's defeat, three years ago, the wizarding world changed drastically. Instead of Death Eaters hiding out, all those who supported Harry Potter were hunted down, tortured for information, and promptly killed. Those who survived either had to convincingly change sides or go into hiding. Hermione, Ron, and Neville had been lucky. They primarily lived as Muggles, even attaining Muggle jobs. Neville worked at a greenhouse in the city while Ron worked at a grocery store and Hermione waited tables.

Bracing. That's what they called the air here. Biting was more like it. Neville made his way to the meeting in the main greenhouse. The rolling hills around him were dotted here and there with white creatures whose heads always seemed to be close to the already ridiculously short grass. He wondered if sheep did anything except eat and bleat.

One of his co-workers went dashing past him accidentally knocking into his shoulder, causing Neville to gasp. The wound still stung even after all these months of treatment and recovery, but he knew eventually the pain would cease. The pain would cease... He felt hollow inside as it was. Sometimes the pain was the only familiar sensation he could find. He was lucky that he had simply not lost the arm altogether and he knew it. He'd certainly been told that enough times to know it. Whenever the shoulder pained him, the memory of that day would flare in his mind: shouting for Luna, seeing the Death Eaters closing in around Harry, and his desperate attempt to get to him before Voldemort did. Instead, there had been the severing spell slicing into him and the sounds of his friends fighting desperately as the world around him faded into black.

It was easier here. Here, he could try to forget.

'Ach sorry, lad!' his co-worker called over his shoulder as he continued his headlong rush. 'Dinna be late!'

_Dinna_, thought Neville. _Why couldn't they simply say 'don't'?_ Even the language still sounded rough to Neville's ears.

There was a harsh flapping sound behind him, rapidly increasing in volume, and Neville turned just in time to duck the incoming owl. It landed on the ground in front of him and stared up with slowly blinking eyes. He reached in his pocket for a knut, but stopped short.

This was no Ministry or message service owl. It was Donnabhac, Seamus's tiny, brown owl. He scrambled for the message, knowing that Seamus had said he would contact him if there were news.

Neville's round face first showed astonishment and then, slowly, a smile crept across his features. Seamus had used code, but the message was still clear to Neville. He quickly lit it afire and it vanished.

Rushing up the path as quickly as he could, he ran past another of his co-workers who called out, 'Neville, where are you off to? We've—'

Neville shouted back at her as he ran, 'You've got a meeting. I've got to leave.' He laughed somewhat as he called back, 'Dinna be angry!'

* * *

Once Neville arrived in Dublin, he entered the pub Seamus suggested for their meeting.

Upon entering, a scandalously dressed woman approached Neville, pulled him over to the bar, and sat on his lap. 'Nice weather we're having, isn't it?' she cooed into his ear.

'Erm—' coughed Neville. 'Sure…yeah…'

'See you've met me bird Myrna,' said Seamus as he wandered over to them. 'Long time no see, Neville! How you've been?'

Myrna giggled, gave Neville a kiss on the cheek, and bounced over to Seamus'. 'Make you jealous, lover?'

'Not a chance,' laughed Seamus. He kissed her and slapped her bum. 'Get you!' He winked at her and she giggled as she went behind the bar to serve drinks. 'Can I get you something to drink?'

'No thanks,' said Neville.

Seamus motioned for Neville to follow him into a back room and Harry tagged along. He whipped out his wand and said an impenetrable charm around them.

'What happened?' asked Neville. 'We thought you were—'

Seamus sighed and leaned back in his chair, folding his arm behind his head. 'Me father was ill the last weeks of our seventh year.' He exhaled loudly. 'Me mum wanted to spend the last of his days with him and our family safely away from You-Know-Who.'

'I'm sorry to hear that,' said Neville. 'I didn't know.'

'No one did. I wasn't about to tell anyone… Anyway, the reason I invited you here… After me father died last year, me mum went on a rampage, seeking out all the draíodóir—'

'The what?'

'Draíodóir—wizards—hiding away from You-Know-Who— She's been gathering them together so that if Harry never returns, there'll be a force against the Death Eaters should they want to take control of Ireland. We've heard rumours of Harry's return…'

Neville wasn't sure if he should admit to knowing Harry's whereabouts or not, but figured now wasn't the best time to reveal anything.

'I know it's not much, mate, but we Irish won't let the dark wizards in without a fight.'

Neville nodded. He figured he may as well change the subject and began questioning Seamus about school in the most roundabout way possible to see if he really was Seamus Finnigan.

'And then our fourth year…' said Neville. 'Who won Quidditch Cup? I've forgotten.'

'We didn't play that year, mate,' laughed Seamus. 'Don't you remember? You were escorting Miss Weasley to the Yule Ball.'

'Oh yeah, that's right!'

Neville and Seamus talked for another hour or so before Myrna called for Seamus.

'Where the bleeding hell are you, Seamus? You puss-faced dosser! If you don't come out here in five minutes, you'll be twistin' hay!' shouted Myrna.

Neville was taken aback by Seamus' foul-mouthed and visibly angered girlfriend. He wondered what got her knickers in a twist. 'Does she, er—' asked Neville. 'Does she know about you being a wizard and all?'

'She knows a bit about it, but nothing too important. It was hard to keep something that huge from her forever.' He took down the impenetrable charm. 'Shut your bleeding cakehole, Myrna! I'll be out in a moment! Leave off!'

'It was good seeing you again, Seamus.' Neville stood to leave.

The two shook hands.

'Offer still stands if ever you, Ron, Hermione...Harry if you see him, you're all welcome here.'

'Thanks, mate.'

'Toss me an owl sometime.'

'Sure thing.'

* * *

It was colder this December in Kirkcaldy than it ever had been at Hogwarts. Hermione figured it was due to some atmospheric charm around the school or its location. Though it didn't seem like it, it wasn't as snowy as London. Neville found employment at a local flower boutique whilst Ron stocked shelves at the grocery store.

Neville enjoyed his new part time job and since plants were familiar to him, he felt at peace amongst the greenery. Nearly every day, the pleasant young nurse from the hospital would walk by at the same time on her way home from work. Sometimes she'd peek in the window to admire the arrangements and sometimes she'd pop in and say 'hi' to him.

'I'm sorry. I don't think we were ever truly introduced. I'm Natalie Hayes.'

Neville was stunned when the short, beautiful girl thrust a hand toward him. 'Hi. Neville L-long—Longbottom. N-nice to meet you…truly.' He knew his face must've turned bright red.

Natalie examined Neville's noble chin and sandy brown hair that fell into his eyes. It was a bit long for her taste, but it seemed to suit him. When he ran a hand through it, she noticed a pale, pink scar on the left side of his face from his ear, down his neck a little bit. 'How's that pretty lass of yours?'

'My what?'

'The girl you were with at hospital back awhile ago. I was just wondering how she's gettin' on?'

'She's not my...lass...or girlfriend. She's well—she's a friend. We're very close though like brother and sister. But yeah, she's doing better...'

'The two of you living together rambling about in that huge old house up the road and you mean to say nothing is…'

'Oh we're not liv-living together like that—I mean, I'm just staying there, but not alone with her—I mean, there are four of us staying there for Christmas…'

She loved how he was stuttering and nervous around her, though she truthfully was just as shy. He was quite a bit taller than her, trim and fit, though not muscular.

He is concerned about what he can tell her and what he can't, worried that she might be a dark wizard….but dismisses it…she's too nice…

Today, Natalie was with her two older brothers and old sister, shopping for last minute Christmas decorations. Natalie introduced him to her siblings and he helped them find a few nice poinsettias.

'This is Neville Long—'

'Longstocking,' said Neville before she had a chance to finish.

'Are you Swedish then?' asked her oldest brother.

'Erm, maybe?' said Neville with an embarrassed shrug as he handed her brother his change.

'He seems cheery sort. Nice fellow, really.' Neville overheard her sister as the four of them exited the shop.

The rest of his shift, Neville thought about how daft he'd acted around her siblings, stuttering and stumbling about like a complete idiot. He was shocked that Natalie's sister came back an hour later.

'Neville?' the woman asked, stepping toward him. 'Hello. I'm Natalie's sister, Catherine.'

'Er, hi,' said Neville, poking his head out from a large hedge plant.

'Good to see you again. Sometimes my sister's too shy for her own good, that Natalie fancies you and would like to invite you round for coffee.' She turned to look out the window and Neville looked over as well to see Natalie standing outside.

Watching intently, Natalie, who wore a bright green scarf and matching knitted hat, waved timidly.

Neville's cheeks coloured. 'Tonight?'

'Yeah. Are you free then or is your social calendar already booked?' said Catherine enthusiastically as she smiled at the younger man. He was certainly better than the other blokes Natalie had dated. Catherine and Natalie though five years apart in age, were very close and told each other everything. She knew Natalie had only been seriously involved with two blokes, both sexually, and neither relationship had worked out, but Neville here—there was something different about him; something she couldn't put her finger on.

'Yeah sure. I've just got to close up shop here.'

'That'll be grand. She'll just be waiting outside then.' She turned to give her sister the thumbs up.

Before Catherine left, Neville said, 'Wait!'

Catherine turned around with a questioning look on her face.

'Er…she doesn't have to wait outside. I mean, it's a bit nippy…'

Catherine chuckled. 'All right. I'll tell her.' She turned on her heels and exited the boutique.

The chimes on the door sounded once more when Natalie entered. Her cheeks were rosy from the cold and she paced the front part of the store, waiting for Neville to finish putting the potted plants in the back refrigerators.

'Hi,' said Neville when he reappeared, slipping on his coat.

'Hi,' replied Natalie. 'So you want to come to my house then? For coffee?'

'Yeah, that sounds lovely.' Neville adjusted his own scarf around his neck and cleared his throat before they stepped through the door. He locked the door behind them and they walked to her home.

Though nineteen, Natalie still lived at home with her parents, Catherine, Catherine's boyfriend Elam, their sister Mary who was still in primary school, and their baby brother, Julian. Their eldest brother was married with kids of his own and the other was in school at Edinburgh, but home for the holidays. Their small house was very crowded to Neville, who was used to spacious rooms with scarce occupants. After the holiday wine was opened and inhibitions were lowered, Neville found he enjoyed the company of the Hayeses. Especially Natalie.

'So Neville,' Elam looked him over with an appraising eye. 'You're from England are you then?'

Neville glanced up from his coffee and saw that the young man was looking at him intently. Neville thought it was fairly obvious that he was from another part of the United Kingdom but could fathom why the man was asking.

'Yes...I....yes.' Neville had always tended to stumble over his words when nervous.

'And then what would be your thoughts about home rule, if you don't mind my asking?' Elam was leaning forward eagerly.

'I think that...home rule...I think it's good to rule your home.' Neville said uncertainly. To his surprise Elam sat back and laughed heartily.

'Aye, it is.' Elam smiled wildly. He stood and walked over to a small table with several bottles on it and lifted one with some amber liquid in it. 'Would you care for a wee drop yourself there, Neville? It's bitter out.'

'Uh...no. Not really…never liked...no, thank you.' Neville eyed the whisky bottle with alarm. Then he noticed that Elam replaced it without using any himself and sat back down with a satisfied smile.

'You're a good lad,' Catherine noted. 'This one we might let you actually keep.'

Natalie blushed deeply but Neville could see that Catherine's smile was sincere. The evening had gone on from there.

After dessert and coffee, Neville felt he ought to leave so as not to overstay his welcome. He thanked everyone and Natalie jumped up to escort him out. Elam raised his eyebrows suggestively at Catherine and she elbowed him playfully.

'Thanks loads for coming,' she said once they were alone. 'I hope my family wasn't too terribly annoying or anything they're sometimes a bit terrifying if you're…' She stopped and gazed into his eyes, trying to read his thoughts. Natalie decided by looking into his eyes that he was an old soul.

'Thanks for inviting me. I had a wonderful time. Your family's lovely,' said Neville. Again, he wanted to tell her just how beautiful she was, but bit his tongue.

'Cheerio, goodnight then.' she said, giving him a chaste kiss on the cheek.

He put a gloved hand to his cheek, but before his nerves got the better of him, he touched her cheek in return and kissed her on the lips. The snow fell around them like a soft blanket.

He was so…different from the other boys Natalie'd dated. He seemed almost afraid to touch her, as if by a mere touch he would shatter her like a porcelain figurine. His diffidence made her feel special. To make for certain that he knew she fancied him, she didn't budge after he broke away. Now the chill of December nipped at each patch of exposed skin on both of their bodies. She closed her eyes.

Neville was uncertain how to proceed from there. He studied her features as she closed her eyes and touched his nose to hers, brushing tentatively. He then leant forward and kissed her again, this time growing a little bolder. His free hand wrapped around her waist to pull her closer.

Once the weather was too cold to ignore, they parted and said their goodnights. Neville walked the whole way back instead of Apparating, thrilled at what had happened with Natalie Hayes. This joy hadn't been felt by him in such a long ti_me._


	2. Obliviate

Riding on the high of his true love, Neville joyfully told everyone in the house that he was in love Natalie. He wanted them to have her over, to meet her. What he received from his supposed friends was hardly at all congratulatory.

Hermione faced him directly. 'You can't ever let her know you, Neville,' she said gravely. 'This can't be anything—it can't be more than casual… We can't have you _endangering _all of us for a—'

'A what, Hermione?' demanded Neville.

'A Muggle!' she shouted.

'Hermione—' started Ron.

'I don't see why I shouldn't be able to be happy, Hermione!' yelled Neville, shocking both Ron and Hermione. 'You have Ron—'

'It's not the same!' she insisted.

'It's not fair!'

'It's not fair to her either!'

Ron broke in, 'You said she's got a huge family that love and support her.'

Neville groaned, knowing Ron would side with Hermione.

'She doesn't need you,' finished Hermione.

'Maybe I need her!'

'Fine, if she means that much to you,' roared Hermione, 'Leave us. Leave Harry alone to fight Voldemort! Just—don't ever come back!' She put a hand over her mouth when she realised what she has said rashly.

Ron gaped at Hermione.

The look on Neville's face was utter dejection. He couldn't believe Hermione would say something like that to him. 'OK. OK,' he repeated as he went to get his coat and put it back on.

'Wait, Neville,' said Hermione. 'I'm sorry I didn't mean that…'

Neville Disapparated before anything further could be said.

* * *

Neville was not about to stick around when Hermione was in such a foul mood. His breath came out in puffs as he marched onward through the cold night. There wasn't a specific destination in mind and the walk helped cool his aching head. What Hermione said to him earlier had hurt him, certainly, but he didn't take it personally. He was quite familiar with her temper and knew she hadn't meant to say all of that. At the same time, what she'd said made him think about Natalie.

Was it fair to keep his history from her? If he told her the truth, would she think their entire relationship was a lie? Would she hate him? He remembered how she had reacted when Ron Disapparated. It had scared her half to death and Neville had had to come up with some lie about Ron and his magic tricks to keep her from running out. What would happen if he told her he was a wizard? Should he bother? Was she worth it? 'Of course she's worth it, you dolt,' his heart argued.

Neville knew the only way to be fair with Natalie was for him to tell her, even at the risk of losing her. His lack self-confidence didn't help the matter. 'I'd lose her one way or another,' he figured, 'may as well be out of truthfulness instead of in a lie.' With that decision finalised, he trudged back to the house, knowing he'd still be allowed back, despite Hermione's harsh decree.

Not wanting to be confronted by Hermione again, he spent the night in the flower shop and when he awoke the next day, he Apparated straight to his room. He organised his clothes, setting out what he'd wear to meet up with Natalie that afternoon while mentally figuring out what he'd say to her. 'Natalie, I've got some news. Well, it's not actually new, but since you don't know yet—no, that's stupid…' He refolded the next day's trousers roughly. 'Tie? No tie…' he decided, putting his tie back in the drawer. He held up a few different sweaters and transfigured one blue then red then back to blue again.

* * *

Neville didn't have to work that day, so once Natalie's shift at the hospital was finished, he drove over to her house to pick her up.

'Where are we going?' Natalie asked him as she got into the Volvo.

'Actually, I was thinking we'd get a bite to eat first at that café you fancy,' suggested Neville.

Natalie took his hand. 'That sounds lovely.' She beamed; her cheeks still pink from the cold weather.

After their meal was finished, the two returned to the home Neville shared with his compatriots. He didn't care what they would think if they found her there. Neville took her hand and cleared his throat. 'I have something I have to tell you, Natalie…' He then confided the truth.

'You're a what?!' she heard Melanie exclaim through the thick oak door. A few seconds later, the outburst was followed with, 'No, no, no…' and 'WICKED!'

Neville levitated the settee with Natalie sitting on it. She was smiling broadly and Neville looked pleased as punch. He landed the settee, grinning at how pleased Natalie was with the news.

Natalie clapped her hands together. 'I always had a feeling magic really existed!' Natalie excitedly informed them. 'So the fair ones exist too? What about mermaids?'

'Sure, I've seen some dodgy mermaids up at Hogwarts,' said Neville. 'Nasty creatures they are. Right up with kelpies and sea monkeys.' He shuddered.

'Loch Ness?'

'No, just a legend.'

Natalie wondered, pointing at Neville's wand. 'May I give it a wave?'

'Sure,' said Neville, handing it over to her.

She waved it around, doing her interpretation of Neville's levitating spell, but to no avail. 'Ach, I'm not magical at all.' She handed it back to him. She thought for a moment about other creatures she wanted to know if they really existed or not.

Neville looked to Natalie and she bit her lip before giving him a firm, encouraging nod. 'That's not all, Natalie.'

'What do you mean?' She looked between the two friends and saw the concern written in their expressions. 'What is it?'

He confessed to Natalie a brief summary of everything that was going on with Harry, the Dark Lord, and the war, including his personal losses.

Silent tears ran down Natalie's cheeks at different points through Neville's story. When he finished, Natalie didn't know what to say. She stared at her hands for a good while before asking, 'D'you blame him? Harry, I mean...for everything that happened to your family and friends?'

'No,' he answered straightaway. 'No, it wasn't his fault.' After a moment of silence, Neville cautiously looked to her. 'So, erm...do you want to break up with me?'

'Do you want to break up with me?' asked Natalie.

'No, of course not. I just thought that you'd—I mean, because of everything...and how I'm not like you...that maybe you wouldn't—'

'It doesn't change the way I feel about you,' she insisted, touching his cheek to look straight into his eyes. 'Thank you for telling me. I'm glad you did.'

Lost in the moment, compelled by the happiness he felt that she still wanted to be with him, he kissed her. He forgot that there were only two options open to her—to leave her family behind and stay with him or to join her family in Obliviation.

* * *

Neville let Seamus know by owl to expect him within the few days and that he might not be alone.

When he went to see Natalie after work, they walked around for a bit on her way home from the hospital. When he saw they were safely away from other people, he squeezed her hand. 'Natalie,' he said, stopping in his tracks, 'I know this is going to be hard for you to hear, but I have to leave for awhile.'

'Where are you going?' Natalie wondered. 'You're coming back, aren't you?'

'Of course I'll come back… My friend in Ireland—he's leading good wizards against a large force of evil wizards.'

'But why do you have to go? Why now?'

'I'm not leaving straightaway…not for a few days, but I wanted to give you some time—'

'Time for what?'

'To decide— You're family, either way, will have to have their memories erased of me. And—'

'I'll have to have mine erased as well,' she stated dejectedly, nodding grimly.

'Oh no, see that's the thing—you can—you could—I mean, I'd like you to come with me, to Ireland.'

'But my family—' she protested.

Neville frowned. 'For their safety, they can't remember me and if you were to come with me, they wouldn't remember you either.' He didn't say anything else, escorting her home in silence.

Natalie gave him a kiss before going indoors and Neville returned to his residence with thoughts weighing heavily on his mind. He prayed she'd want to go with him to Ireland.

* * *

Three days passed much more quickly than Neville ever thought possible. Soon he was at her home the night before he and the Weasleys were to leave.

Natalie met him at the door and took him by the hand to lead him upstairs to her room.

Neville was a bit shocked that neither Catherine nor Elam seemed to care, but once they were alone, all thoughts of the other residents flew from his mind. He did, however, make sure to put up an Impenetrable charm on her room so that no one could overhear their conversation. 'I'm leaving tomorrow.'

'I know.'

'You have the choice Melanie never had, but I need to know. I don't mean to give you an ultimatum, Natalie, but I'm leaving tomorrow.'

'Shh,' she whispered, placing her fingers over his lips. She replaced them with her lips.

'I need to know,' he repeated.

'I love you,' she whispered. She kissed along the scar on the left side of his face, tracing it from his ear to his neck.

'I really want you to come with me,' he told her.

She kissed him more passionately, breaking apart only to remove his jumper and then her own, tossing them carelessly in the corner of the room.

The rest of the evening was spent exploring each other and memorising the feel of the other's skin beneath their own.

In the morning, they held each other for a good while, made love again, then rose and dressed for the day.

'I love you, Neville,' Natalie whispered in his ear. She pulled back to look into his eyes. 'Obliviate me,' she requested. She touched his face.

'That's your decision then?'

'That's my decision.'

He shook his head, backing away from her. 'I can't. I can't do it.'

'Yes, you can.'

'Not me. Maybe Harry or Ron—'

'No, I want you to do it,' she insisted. 'I wouldn't trust anyone else to do it.'

Neville wrapped his fingers tightly over his wand, his palm becoming slick with sweat. 'Why don't you come with me?'

'Do you honestly think it's safer for me, Neville? Is it safer for me to go with you, unable to defend myself against these monsters? Or is it safer for me to be Obliviated? Would you rather chance me being killed because I've kept my memories?' She broke off as tears clouded her vision. 'Isn't there some way to undo the erasing?'

'No there isn't,' he replied softly.

Tears fell freely, not attempting to repress them. 'When you come back, you can help me remember,' she said with a quaver in her voice making it sound more like a question than a statement.

'When things are safe again,' replied Neville in a rich, determined voice used only in Natalie's presence, 'I'll come back from you.' He kissed her soundly.

'I love you, Neville!' She couldn't stop her tears as she wrapped her arms around his neck and hugged him. 'I love you so much!'

He held her for awhile and tears came to his own eyes as he reached for his wand. He threaded his fingers through her hair.

She kissed him and then ordered, 'Do it,' as the tears continued streaming down her face.

Neville looked at her warily, but she nodded firmly. 'I love you. I'll be back for you. I promise you, Natalie. _Obliviate_.' He looked away from her so he wouldn't see the look of unfamiliarity in her eyes. He went down the hallway and into the other of the rooms of the house in order to quickly Obliviate the rest of her family.


	3. Liathróid Chriostail

Dublin was quite different from the last time Neville had been there. The streets were cleared out though it was still early in the evening. It seemed not even the Muggles wanted to be out in the open after dark. Ron and Hermione hadn't been to Ireland in over two years, so they didn't recognise the changes. Lines of houses and shops looked ransacked and some buildings look charred from massive fires.

Hermione caught a few headlines from the newspaper as they passed by an abandoned vendor. _Gang Violence Escalates, Terror in Ireland, Is Anyone Safe?, Blame Lies With R.E.A.L. I.R.A. Some Say…_ She pointed them out to Ron.

'Muggles have been affected by the Death Eaters then too. Blimey! Isn't there anything the Ministry can do about this?'

Hermione shook her head. 'You know as well as I do the Ministry's falling apart.' She took his arm. 'I just hope once this is all over, it'll return to some semblance of normalcy.'

'Over here,' directed Neville. He led them to the very same pub he last met Seamus. The pub itself was far from appealing. The sign was hanging off its last hinge and the door was battered, swinging open from the light, chilly breeze.

Inside, Seamus sat alone with a pint in front of him looking quite pensive. When he heard the three of them enter, he welcomed them cheerfully. 'Neville! How've ye been?' He slapped him on the back in a friendly manner. 'Ron! Hermione!' He gave Ron a similar slap on the back then moved to Hermione to give her a squeeze and a kiss on the cheek.

'Been awhile, hasn't it? Did you get me wedding present?' Seamus spurted with questions, but saw the rings on their fingers. 'Ach, I see you have!'

Ron was a bit flustered at the barrage of questions and Seamus' overexcited greetings. He looked like a complete foreigner as he stood there with a confused look on his face.

Neville was the only one to see through Seamus jovial façade. He noticed the dark bags under his eyes and the lines of worry etched into his forehead. Seamus looked much older than before. He knew Ron and Hermione wouldn't observe this since they hadn't seen Seamus since seventh-year. Seamus' mother's death seemed to have left him world-weary.

'How're you two holding up?' asked Seamus.

'Pretty good, yeah,' replied Ron, grinning at Hermione.

Seamus offered the three of them a welcoming drink, passing the chipped glasses around and pouring some unfamiliar liquor into them without giving them a chance to protest. He raised his own half-empty pint to toast, 'Health and long life to you, land without rent to you, the woman—' He winked at Hermione. 'Or man or your choice to you, and the light of heaven after this world for you.' He downed the rest of his ale.

Hermione tentatively took a drink, but didn't finish hers. 'Er…thanks, Seamus.' She thought their greeting was a bit odd but didn't say anything when Ron took a nice gulp from his glass.

'We best be off now,' announced Seamus. 'It'll take awhile to get there by Muggle means, but it's the safest since you lot can't Apparate there yet.'

'Where exactly are we going?' asked Hermione.

'Galway,' Seamus replied matter-of-factly, 'to Bengorm, north of Leenane.'

Ron sent Hermione a confused look, but shrugged and followed Seamus out onto the deserted streets.

The travelled by rail then motorway. On their way, Hermione engaged Seamus in conversation about Ireland and the weather, not wanting to delve too deep in unpleasant matters and the true reason of their visit. Seamus pulled the car up to a nice-sized cottage and Hermione made an approving sound. She reached for handbag and luggage, eagerly hopping out.

'We're just leaving the car here,' said Seamus. He pointed to the side road that went up the cliff. 'We're heading up there.'

'But it's such a lovely cottage,' sighed Hermione. 'Can't we stay here?'

'It's already rented out to Muggles, Hermione,' replied Seamus. 'Come on, we've only got a few hours before sunset.' He grabbed one of their backpacks and lifted it onto his shoulders.

'All right, Neville?' Ron opened the other car door so he could get out. He saw Neville was lost in thought and waved a hand in front of his face. 'C'mon.'

Neville looked from the window to Ron and nodded. 'Yeah.'

Loaded down with their luggage, the three of them followed Seamus up the cliff and onto a plateau. They walked through the barren terrain for about an hour, passing unshorn grasses that were littered with weeds. Finally they came upon a dead tree and Seamus walked straight up to it with his wand drawn. '_Dia linn,_' he whispered.

The tree shook and with a loud sneezing sound, it opened wide enough for them to enter, single-file.

Looking into the dark passageway, Ron told Hermione, 'After you,' with only a slight tremble in his voice.

'Very funny, Ron,' she replied. Hermione followed Seamus down the stairway without another word and Ron holding her hand tightly.

The tree closed up after Neville stepped in and the action made the three of them jump. Once down the rotting staircase, which smelled quite awful, they found themselves in a series of caves. Neville thought at once he'd need a map to get around because the hallways twisted and turned around so frequently it'd be easy to get lost.

All of the hallways and rooms were lit magically by torches, but the walls, ground, and even the ceiling were mucky. Hermione resisted the urge to plug her nose, wondering why they hadn't used any Scourgifying spells to clean the place up. It was so unclean she thought it was irresponsible negligence.

'I know what you're thinking, Hermione,' said Seamus at the look of disapproval on her face, 'but the fact is, we have to keep it like this for the protective charms to stay intact. We can't perform too much magic or else the Death Eaters will be alerted to our presence. And we certainly can't have that!'

'What is this place?' asked Ron.

'We fondly call it Liathróid Chriostail—The Crystal Ball—and yes in Gaelic because we haven't heard any of the Death Eaters that know the language. Many of our codes are in Gaelic. That was me mum's idea, actually.' Seamus directed them into a small room with three beds made up. A washbasin and toilet stood on the far side. 'Shower's just down the hall and the refectory is kitty-corner to that. I have a few things to attend to right now. Have to let everyone know you've arrived. I'll be back in a few to come and get you.'

After Seamus left, Hermione sighed sarcastically, 'Well isn't this brilliant?' She collapsed on a chair nearest the door in a huff.

Ron raised an eyebrow in her general direction. 'What d'you mean?'

'Nothing,' replied Hermione, realising her tone was less than enthusiastic. There were more important things to be thinking about than lamenting their temporary living conditions. This certainly wasn't Kirkcaldy.

Seamus popped back in. 'Everyone's ready for you now, if you'd like to meet them of course.'

Hermione stood up promptly and walked past Seamus out of the room.

Neville was reluctant to leave the cosy room. He didn't really feel like standing up in front of a bunch of people he'd never met before and have them look at him funny. They'd probably ask him about things he didn't want to talk about like the battle he'd lost Luna in.

Ron was not about to be the only one there who didn't know what the bloody hell was going on, so he persuaded Neville to go with them.

As the three of them followed Seamus, Hermione asked about the underground structure's history.

'During the early twentieth century, these old mining tunnels were renovated, so the indoor plumbing, refrigeration units, immersion heaters, etc. are all from back then. We've done a few magical modifications, but mostly it's the same.' As they entered the largest room full of all sorts of witches and wizards, the buzz of conversation dissipated. Seamus voice was heard loud and clear, slightly echoing off the stone walls. 'This is Ireland's headquarters for the WCAV: Wizarding Community Against Voldemort. Here at Liathróid Chriostail—'

'The Crystal Ball,' Hermione reminded Ron before he had a chance to ask what it meant again.

'We have a network of Draíodóir that monitor the activities of Death Eaters in the country.' Seamus took them over to a mousey-brown-haired wizard around the age of Remus Lupin. 'This is Brendan MacCadain, Head of Operations.'

'Nice to meet you,' Ron and Hermione chorused.

Neville was too intent on studying Seamus to respond. It wasn't that Seamus was strange or anything, it was just that Neville was shocked at how serious he took his position. Seamus was very assertive, knowledgeable, and commanding; he hardly resembled the laughing dorm mate from Hogwarts.

'Edna Reilly…Moira Quillan…Tiernan Nolan…Sean MacCionaith…' Seamus continued down the line.

Ron recognised one of the Order members, Hestia Jones sitting next to who Seamus had introduced as Sean MacCionaith.

'There are quite a few Ministry officials and Order members among us,' said Seamus giving a slight nod to Dedalus Diggle who, flustered, dropped his hat when he made an effort to nod back.

Ron then noticed Kingsley Shacklebolt and Emmeline Vance sitting towards the back of the room. Mundungus Fletcher sat to their right, smoking a pipe.

'Since we're not under the direct control of any government, including the Ministry,' Seamus went on, 'we've set up our own here. We've got our own batch of specialized Hit Wizards.'

Hermione also took note of Seamus' presence as he introduced them to the Irish force. Seamus had always goofed off with Dean during school and now here he was confident and mature. She did, however, take in that his eyes carried a sadness deep within him. She recalled the fact that he'd lost both of his parents in the last three years…within a matter of weeks of losing his mother, his girlfriend had been taken by Death Eaters, tortured for information, and killed. No doubt Muran had been involved with that personally, she thought. Despite all of this, Seamus was still standing tall. It seemed nothing would cause him to stray from fulfilling his mother's wishes, as he'd stated in his letter to Neville: he'd undertaken her struggle to prevent the Death Eaters from conquering Ireland.

The Irish fighters were on Harry's side and they'd been fighting the past three years with only the hope that Harry might still be alive. Now it was their time to tell them the truth.  
Neville and Ron looked to Hermione, but she bit her lip instead.

Ron cleared his throat. 'I'm Ron Weasley. This is my wife, Hermione. And this is Neville Longbottom. I'm sure you've heard all about us already, so I'll just cut to the chase. Harry's alive. Harry Potter, that is, in case you weren't sure who I was talking about. But erm, anyway, just thought you'd like to know that. Oh, and of course we've seen him. We've been living with him—no wait, that sounds bad. Let me start again.

'OK, Harry's fine. He's alive and he's doing everything he can to stop Voldemort. I can't tell you where he is of course, just that he's safe and…yeah…' He looked to Hermione who gave him an affirming nod. 'So Harry's working on the Voldemort stopping end, so we need to work on the killing Death Eaters end which you've already been doing great so far, so not too sure what we could do to help, but—-'

Hermione squeezed his hand, smiling at his rambling. She cut him off saying, 'I suppose we're really here to represent Harry…ambassadors of sorts. Harry really appreciates all the support he's received from you even though you weren't even sure he was alive.'

'I've always believed he was!' exclaimed one of the witches.

Hermione swallowed, remembering Harry's request that Seamus was on a need-to-know-only basis as far as Harry's whereabouts and his plans. 'Any word on Lavender?'

Seamus shook his head. 'Haven't heard hide nor hair of her since I sent Neville that owl. She was working at a bar and grill in me old hometown of Shannon and then it was reported she was last seen with that bloke Nathair.'

'And Nathair?' prompted Hermione anxiously, knowing Nathair was one of the worst sorts of Death Eaters.

'Haven't heard anything about him in Ireland since Lavender disappeared.'

Hermione fell silent, ruminating.

After being caught up on the various hits and clashes between the Irish forces and Voldemort's followers, the three of them returned to their room. Neville took up his single suitcase and left Ron and Hermione alone. He felt odd having to sleep in the same room as them, so he approached Seamus about it and bunked with fellow Gryffindor graduate, Lee Jordan.

'What's the matter?' asked Ron as he changed into his pyjamas.

Hermione shook her head, sitting down the bed with her notepad and one of Michael Scott's texts. 'I don't understand why the Death Eaters are so keen on attacking Ireland. Why not Wales or Scotland? Scotland makes more sense…'

Ron brushed a hand through his hair, thinking. 'Well I think it has to do with the old pureblood prejudices. Many purebloods think Glastonbury, the Amesbury region is the origin of all magic—'

'But Scotland and Ireland have their own mythology about magic's—' countered Hermione.

'This is what many of them believe. I'm sure Voldemort sees things that way. How many full-blooded wizards have you met that are Irish?'

This made her think, but she cut the biased thinking short. 'But the African and Chinese shaman? The Shinto priestesses? Witchdoctors?'

'Ignorant people stick to their worldview despite what really is true,' said Ron straightforwardly.

Hermione nodded in understanding then a slight smile appeared on her face.

'What?' asked Ron, confused.

'Nothing,' she said, smiling broadly. 'I just didn't know all of that. I'm impressed.'

'Er, well, thanks, I guess,' he replied slowly.

She kissed his cheek then bounced over to her luggage to fish for her toothbrush.

After Hermione returned from washing up for the night, she found Ron looking over her notes. 'What are you doing?!' she asked in a panic.

Still holding the parchment in his hand, he asked. 'Who's this Nathair character, 'Mione?'

Wearing only one of Ron's old Chudley Cannons t-shirts, Hermione shivered at the mention of him.

'I heard you and Harry talking about him—' He broke off when he saw her anxious expression. 'What is it?'

'He frightens me,' she admitted, putting away her toothbrush and moving towards the bed.

'Why?'

'He's dangerous.' She sat down next to him.

'How dangerous are we talking? Death Eater dangerous or Parseltongue-spouting future Dark Lord dangerous?' He shot her cockeyed smile, rubbing her knee.

Hermione shook her head. 'This is no time to joke around, Ron.' She knew she'd have to tell him something about the psychopath responsible for the murder of hundreds of people—the person responsible for his mother and sister's deaths—but how could she? She recalled his reaction to his sister's death and the confirmation of it: the lost look in his eyes, how cold he felt in her arms. She didn't want to experience that again.

Ron was always more attuned to Hermione and her moods than anyone else, but that didn't mean he understood her half the time. He could tell she was afraid of something, but he wasn't sure why or of what exactly. 'That bad huh?' he remarked dryly.

She met his eyes and placed a hand atop his on her knee. 'He's killed a lot of people, from powerful wizards to innocent Muggles…his methods are…and he was the last person seen with Lavender.'

'And we're here to scrap together clues to find this lunatic because we have some sort of death wish?'

'The more we know about him, the more likely we'll be able to stop him before he kills again,' she whispered. She leant her head on his shoulder and examined her notes in his hand, wondering what the next best move was.


	4. Death at Every Window

Ron slept fitfully that night, unused to the bed. He'd never really been able to sleep in strange beds, except in Kirkcaldy surprisingly. He shrugged it off figuring it was due to the hard labour at the food store and on the other nights that Hermione had surely worn him out. He glanced over at her where she lay next to him, curled up in the corner near the wall. She'd had a hard time going to sleep that night, but now slumbered peacefully.

Noises on the other side of the door drew Ron's attention away from his wife. Just as he reached for his wand to perform an impenetrable charm, he heard the voices clearly.

_'Attack…'_

'No, don't wake them just yet. They've only just arrived—' Ron recognised this voice to be Seamus.

Curious, Ron rubbed the sleep from his eyes and swung his legs over the side of the bed. He glanced back to check that Hermione as still facing away from him, sounds asleep. He pulled on sweats and his trainers before quietly sneaking out of the room. He caught up to Seamus. 'What's up, mate?'

Seamus was surprised to see Ron up and about, but barely stopped at he strode quickly down the hallway with another man Ron didn't recognise. 'There's been an incident at a rural village in Wexford. The Muggleborn wizards and their families living there have been compromised. Hit wizards are on their way, but I need people to escort the survivors back here. Most of our recon team is on other assignments right now—'

'You just bring people straight here?' asked Ron. 'Won't the Death Eaters follow?'

'We've got cloaking spells and no, we don't bring them directly here.' He rushed toward the meeting room. 'It's—I don't have time to explain this to you right now—' Seamus directed his attention to the few individuals in the room as he entered. 'Edna, has Quillan gone?'

'Yes, sir,' the older woman replied.

'Good,' he said brusquely. 'We still need one more person…' He swiftly turned to Ron. 'D'you want to go?'

'Erm, sure, I guess,' said Ron, unsure about what exactly was going on and what he was getting himself into.

'Sean, you take Ron with you to Kilmore Quay and get the wee ones out of the way. Russell will meet you in Curragh.'

Sean MacCionaith, a senior Auror hurried over to where Ron and Seamus stood. 'We'll fly there. C'mon,' he said, indicating Ron should follow him. He tossed Ron and extra cloak saying, 'Since we both can't Apparate there, we'll go by broom. Be wide,' he warned when Ron grabbed a broom with a rusted handle, 'the chisellers'll be riding with us so you best use a better one. Here, take this.' He handed Ron a dirty Nimbus 2000 instead. 'Let's go.'

Ron had no idea what Sean was talking about, but took the Nimbus instead and they performed a Disillusionment Charm on each other and rushed out of the headquarters.

Once the two of them were flying through the early morning sky to Kilmore Quay, Sean sparked conversation saying, 'You've helped Potter countless times, haven't you?'

'Yeah,' he replied.

'You're legendary, the three of you—Harry Potter, Ron Weasley, Hermione Granger…'

'Weasley now,' reminded Ron. He saw Sean was confused and added, 'Hermione, I mean, since we're married.'

'Righto,' laughed Sean. 'The three of you've been in the papers since you were wee snappers, so this'll be a cinch for you.'

Ron chuckled nervously. 'I don't know about that. I mean, I've never been trained as an Auror…'

The conversation dwindled after that. It took about an hour and a half to get there flying at top speed on their older brooms. Ron took in the scenery as they passed over the countryside and was intrigued to see the authentic white-washed thatched houses near the harbour. He was keenly aware of the smell of fish, but the Dark Mark lingering in the sky over more than a few houses snapped him back to reality.

Sean landed behind a tree and stowed both of their brooms there. To cover more ground, the two of them split up.  
Wand at the ready, Ron charged into the nearest house with the Mark brandished high. Ron knew the Death Eaters had already been there. Now they were looking for survivors. The fog of early morning obscured his vision as he searched the house.

A shuffling and a thump resounded from one of the bedrooms.

Ron swallowed hard, gripping his wand tightly, as he slowly approached the door. He turned the handle and stepped into the darkened room. '_Lumos_,' he whispered.

Suddenly, he was grabbed from behind and after the swift glittering on the wall, a knife pressed to his throat.

* * *

Neville awoke feeling cold early in the morning. It had been hard to fall asleep with Dean's snoring even though he'd shared a room with him and the rest of the boys in their year for seven years. Dean was still asleep when Neville stretched, his muscles aching in odd places, and reluctantly rose to shower and change for the day. The first thought that came to Neville's mind as he faced the day was that Natalie was gone. Natalie no longer remembered who he was and the love they shared was permanently erased from her mind.

'What is it, Neville?' asked Dean when Neville returned from the showers. He could tell that something was bothering his old friend.

'Nothing,' replied Neville dismissively. He really didn't want to get into the details of his private life with someone who really wouldn't understand. He just wanted to forget about it. The problem was, though he wished he'd asked Ron to remove Natalie from his mind as well, the other part of him desperately didn't want to ever forget her.

Dean watched as Neville sluggishly made the bed and moved to the door.

At breakfast, Neville didn't see Seamus, but didn't think much of it as it was rather early in the morning. Most of the other people moving in and out of the refectory. Most of them took handfuls of food, a piece of toast here, an apple there, barely stopping to chat.

'How's about a wee bit of rashers with yer eggs?' offered a kindly blonde witch who was scrapping bacon onto her plate.

'No thanks,' replied Neville politely. He sat down at one of the card tables and tucked in to his eggs. He tried to focus on their movements instead of thinking about his last moments with Natalie: the way she'd looked into his eyes, tears flooding her own, and ordered him to Obliviate her.

Why did their hushed whispers and mumbled 'good morning's' remind him of the time they went to the cinema? Why was it when someone accidentally bumped into someone else was he reminded of the first time he ever saw Natalie and how clumsy the both of them had been? Soon he gave up on breakfast and slogged back to his room. He laid back down on his uncomfortable, stiff bed and stared at the ceiling.

* * *

Ron's heart beat wildly in his chest as he felt the cool metal pressing dangerously close to his carotid artery. The attacker was smaller than Ron, but gripped him firmly.

'Drop your wand!' his assailant yelled.

It only took a second for Ron to react and quickly obey.

The assailant kicked Ron's wand across the floor. 'W-who are you?!' the male voice sounded. 'What've ye done to me mum and dad?'

'I'm Ron Weasley,' said Ron the panic ebbing from his voice when he realised his attacker wasn't a Death Eater, 'with the WCAV.' His eyes went to his wand that was still lit. It now illuminated the bodies of a man and woman. He felt the knife's pressure lessen and turned away from it. Ron faced the attacker, finding him to be no older than himself.

'WC—' the lad started to say. When he saw Ron and his mouth dropped open. 'From the papers—Ron Weasley—Harry Potter's friend—'

'Yes, that's right…' replied Ron, a bit shocked at the quick change of sentiment. 'I'm here with a few others looking for survivors.'

'Why didn't they kill me? I'm a squib! Me ma was a pureblood; Dad was a pureblood… Why didn't they kill me?' The lad slammed the knife on the floor and glared at Ron.

Ron shrugged. 'They probably didn't see you as a threat. Were your parents involved with any—'

'No,' the lad replied quickly, shaking his head. 'Murphys haven't been involved in politics since the eighteenth century.

'I'm to take you to Curragh for your protection,' Ron informed him.

'We came here for safety and look how far that got us!'

Ron nodded his head in understanding. 'I'm sorry about your parents…'

'I think you should go now,' said Sean Murphy. He picked up Ron's wand and gave it back to him.

Ron took it from him and left the house. There was one more house for him to check. The next house had the same floor plan as the first. He moved to the wardrobe, but only clothing and shoes were inside. He exhaled, figuring the sounds he'd heard were from outside. Then he heard a soft sniffling coming from underneath the bed. He bent down on his knees and lifted the bedding so he could peer under it. 'Lumos,' he whispered.

Wearing a green patchwork nightgown, a little girl with dark curly hair cowered under the bed.

'Hey,' said Ron in a soft voice. 'Are you all right? Did they hurt you?'

The girl studied Ron carefully, seeing he had a kind face and wasn't wearing one of the scary masks. 'I want my mummy!' she cried. Tears poured from her eyes.

'Come on, let's get you out of here.' Ron knew they were under a time constraint and if her parents were alive, the only way they'd be able to see her is if Sean and he took her to the safehouse. He outstretched his hand to her, but she shook her head.

'You're a stranger!'

'My name's Ron. What's yours?'

'Vicktoria Reed,' she replied, her tears slowing down a bit. She wiped her eyes on her sleeve. 'I'm fwee.' She held up three fingers.

'Hi Vicky,' said Ron politely.

'No! Vicktoria!' she corrected him, reminding him of a young Hermione.

'All right, Miss V,' he chuckled, outstretched both of his hands.

Victoria snickered and started to crawl towards him.

By this time, Sean had found his way into the bedroom. He magicked the bed across the room. 'No time, Ron.'

Victoria screamed when the bed flew off of her, she scrambled away from Sean, latching onto Ron's trouser leg.

'Way to scare her half to death!' shouted Ron.

'Grab her and let's go! Two more houses on our list and then we're out of here.' Sean didn't wait for Ron's reaction, but strode out onto the strand.

'I'm going to take you to a safe place where you'll be able to meet your parents,' he told the young girl, hoisting her into his arms. 'But we've got to go now. OK?'

'OK,' replied Victoria.

Ron wrapped his cloak around her as they exited the house.

Sean came out of the next house. 'Only dead in there,' he informed him. 'Same with the other. We can go.'

The two of them went back to where their brooms lay waiting and took off again. The sun crept up from the sea behind them. Victoria sat facing Ron with her arms around him as they flew.

* * *

Neville wasn't sure how long he lay in bed until Dean came back in. 'Neville? All right?'

'Fine,' he replied lackadaisically.

'Seamus's asking about you,' said Dean.

'Right,' replied Neville, swinging his legs over the side of the bed and slipping his shoes back on.

Dean observed Neville carefully and said, 'Whatever it is, you need to get over it.'

Neville was taken aback at Dean's blunt remark. He looked at him questioningly. 'Excuse me?'

Dean faced him, his taller frame towering over him. 'I don't know what's bothering you, but… We've all lost people we've cared about in this war.'

Neville frowned. Dean had no idea, no bloody idea. He pushed past him and walked into the deserted hallway.

Dean followed him. He knew Neville had always been quiet and kept mostly to himself, but his attitude and the way he was carrying himself told Dean that something was definitely up. 'My family was attacked last year, did you know?'

Neville turned around at this. He bit his bottom lip before saying, 'I'm sorry, mate.'

'It was hard,' Dean added, 'but they're gone and you know what, the best thing I can be doing right now is helping to stop that from happening to other people. You know what I mean?'

Neville nodded firmly, but kept walking down the hallway.

'I know it's not much consolation for whatever you're going through,' said Dean.

Neville turned around, his resolve returning gradually. Dean was right. This was the reason he'd come to Ireland not to get away from his past or avoid it, but to help. 'Where's Seamus?'

'The other direction,' said Dean, pointing down the opposite curve of the hallway.

Neville was getting all turned around. 'Oh.'

Dean put a hand on his shoulder. 'Come on, I'll take you to him.'

The pair entered the large meeting room as Seamus was addressed twenty or so witches and wizards.

Seamus only slept a few hours the night before, but was up and directing WCAV members to different points on the map of Ireland. '…in Roscommon. We'll have Aurors stationed along the River Shannon here,' he said, indicating the position on the map, 'and here. We have a portkey setup to take your straight to Drumanone Dolmen…'

Neville and Dean sat down in empty chairs near the back. Neville looked for Ron and Hermione, but didn't see them. He did notice how worn-out Seamus looked.

When Seamus saw Neville, he stopped his speech in order to address him. 'Neville, good to see you. I'd like to go over some of these plans and get you caught up. I'd like a fresh eye on everything and someone to take over for a bit so I can get some rest.'

Some of the WCAV members chuckled at his partial joke and Seamus smiled.

'Sure thing,' replied Neville, starting to get excited at the prospect of actively helping out.

Just as Seamus was directing Hestia to take her party to Roscommon County, Hermione burst in.

'Where's Ron?' She looked around frantically. It was now after noon and she'd been exploring the cavernous tunnels the better part of two hours trying to find where he'd run off to.

Seamus stopped in the middle of his speech to turn his attention to Hermione. He looked at his watch. 'Probably well on his way to Curragh by now. Have a seat.' He gestured to an empty chair in front of him.

Hermione stood, hands on her hips, glaring at Seamus. 'What d'you mean he's on his way to Curragh?! Where in the bloody hell is Curragh and why wasn't I informed?!'

Seamus was not one to take such admonition. It'd been ages since someone disapproved so verbally of one of his decisions. 'He left early this morning under my orders now I suggest you take a seat so I may finish my instructions to prevent another attack.'

'I think I have the right to know of my husband's comings and goings, Seamus! Don't expect me to just sit here like a good little girl while you—'

'Miss Granger!' sounded Minerva McGonagall's voice.

Hermione whipped her head around to see her former professor seated before her. 'Wh—'

Minerva arose from her chair, walked over to Hermione, grabbed her arm, and escorted her out of the meeting room so that Seamus could finish his oration. She didn't say a word to Hermione until they were alone in her private chamber.

The room had a low ceiling and slopped sharply toward the back, but wasn't too constricting as to be suffocating. She released Hermione's arm as they entered and gestured for her to sit at the writing desk. She sat on the corner of her bed facing Hermione. 'I understand that you're upset Mr Weasley left without telling you, but that gives you no right to shout at Mr Finnigan. He's gone out of his way to bring you here, even meeting you in Dublin himself which put him at great risk—! To lose him would be very damaging to our operation to say the least. You ought to show him more respect.'

Hermione's face contorted into a frustrated frown. She didn't know what to say in response to this jus that she was angry and hurt that neither Seamus nor Ron had told her what was going on. It'd been ages since a superior had rebuked her.

'Did you think that perhaps there wasn't time to tell you? I don't know all of the details, but I will say this: we each have our parts to play in this war and right now, his is out there. You came to find out about Lavender, is that right?'

Hermione nodded.

Minerva rose from the bed and walked over to the writing desk Hermione was seated at. She slid the top drawer open and removed a handwritten letter. Only the top half of the parchment was written on. She handed the letter to Hermione. 'This was the only thing of significance I found at Lavender's residence.'

'A letter…' began Hermione as she scanned the heading, 'to Padma.'

Minerva nodded grimly. She recalled her former student, thinking it was such a shame that she'd disappeared. So many lives lost… 'Miss Patel lost her sister—'

'I know,' replied Hermione, her eyes still scanning the unfinished letter.

'She's living in London. You should start there.'

Once she finished reading, she looked up at her old professor. 'Thank you.' She sighed and looked from the floor to McGonagall. 'It's good to see you again, Professor.'

'It's good to see you again, Miss—_Mrs_ Weasley,' she replied with a hint of amusement. 'I'm really very proud of you, you know? Despite this last outburst.'

Hermione smiled. 'Thanks.' She rose from the chair, folding the letter and placing it back into the envelope with Padma's most recent address.

As she exited the room, Minerva found tears coming to her eyes. She briefly wondered if she'd sent one of her most beloved students, whom she loved like a granddaughter, to her death. Should she have offered to go with her? Minervera shook sense into her head. No, this was Hermione Granger, brightest witch of her age, who'd confronted death head-on since age eleven. Minerva had faith that Hermione would be able to take care of herself just fine.


	5. Orphans of War

They flew low through the colourful fields of Ballyteigue Borrow finally coming upon a small cottage disguised as a shack.

'We'll stay here for a few hours to wait for Reilly and Quillan,' said Sean. 'I'm going to wet some tea. Care for some?'

Ron shook his head, replying in low tones so as not to wake Victoria, 'Maybe later.' His arms were getting tired as he found a bed to place her on. He tried to lay her on the bed, but she was holding onto his shirt. Each time he uncurled her hand, she reached back for him and in the end he gave in and stayed with her. His lethargy took over and soon he was snoring next to her tiny form.

Edna and Moira arrived at around six-thirty in the morning with three young boys ranging from eleven to fifteen. Moira had a flying carpet that they'd enlarged to fit all five of them.

Sean roused Ron. 'Time to go.'

Ron's head ached from the lack of sleep and he attempted to pull Victoria back into his arms without waking her.

'Ron?' she asked sleepily, rubbing her eyes. 'Where's Mummy and Papa?'

Ron picked her up without answering her question. 'When will we be back to headquarters?'

'Whist!' hissed Sean, indicating Ron should keep quiet. 'Liathróid Chriostail, Liathróid Chriostail!' He adamantly reminded Ron the proper terminology to use when referring to the headquarters.

'Right,' said Ron in an apologetic tone. 'So when d'you think—'

'Early evening tomorrow at the earliest,' replied Edna as she readied the carpet for flight. 'Hop on,' she told the young boys. The carpet hummed as it hovered off the ground.

'Where's Mummy?' asked Victoria, her voice quavering.

'I don't know, Miss V,' he replied honestly.

Victoria began to cry.

Panic washed over Ron, but it was a very different kind of panic than he was used to. He didn't know what to say or do to calm this child. If he hadn't been the youngest brother, he probably would have more experience with kids, but as it was, Ginny had only been a year younger than him and they were both treated like the youngest. He wished he knew what to do or how to help. Her crying touched him so much and tears welled in his own eyes at the thought of having to tell her that her parents might not make it back to her alive…that she might be orphaned. He'd seen so many of these cases over the years. She certainly wasn't the first child orphaned by this war.

'Will you help me find them?' she asked, her eyes full of hope.

'I'll do the best I can, I promise.'

She gave him a hug. 'Thank you, Ron.'

The group flew for a few hours until they reached Kildare. They flew slowly over the grassy plain of Curragh until they reached a broken-down shed. When they landed, whispered a revealing spell and the shed transformed before Ron's eyes into a Magical maladies hospital and childcare facility.

Ron followed Sean over to where Russell sat speaking with a middle-aged woman.

'Hello Niamh,' said Edna.

Russell took down the names of the three boys and then moved to where Ron stood with a sleepy Victoria in his arms.

'Name: Victoria Reed,' stated Sean apathetically, 'Filing for Guardianship: Indefinite, Parents' Whereabouts: Unknown…'

Ron set Victoria on her own feet when Niamh came over to get her. 'Go on,' he said.

Victoria shook her head, clutching his trouser leg. 'You're staying with me, wight?'

'I've got to go home now,' said Ron. 'It'll be all right. Go with the nice lady.'

'I want to go with you!' Victoria cried.

Niamh peeled her off Ron and took her hand, steering her away.

'No Ron! Don't go!'

Sean put a hand on Ron's shoulder.

'I promise I'll be back to see you very soon, OK?'

'Tomorrow?' asked Victoria.

'Not tomorrow, but soon, OK?'

'OK.'

'Now be good.' Ron began turning toward the exit as he said, 'G'bye, Miss V.'

She waved sadly. 'G'bye, Ron.'

* * *

Seamus and Neville poured over the map of Ireland. It wasn't of magical properties, but rather an intricate hand-drawn map made by Seamus' father, topography being his favourite pastime. 'Don't you think they'd be showing their faces in grand style?' suggested Neville.

'They're Death Eaters,' said Seamus.

'That's right. Death Eaters: the richest, noblest, pureblood families on their righteous quest to rid the world of Muggle filth,' added Neville, folding his arms defiantly.

'They're going to make themselves known, not hide out in the wilderness.'

'Seamus?'

It was Head of Operations, Brendan MacCadain.

'Yeah?' Seamus looked up from the map to see MacCadain's lithe figure standing in the doorway.

'Tiernan's group's back from Roscommon,' MacCadain informed him.

'Back? Already?' cried Seamus, leaping up. 'What's happened—'

Before Seamus had a chance to take one step to the door, Tiernan and one of his group members, Derrick Glass, burst in roaring, 'Your source didn't pan out again, Finnigan!'

'We were out there in the mud and cold for a week!' shouted Derrick. 'And nothing!'

'Foostering around when we could be fighting them face-to-face—' continued Tiernan, the mud from his shirt shaking off as he yelled.

'You've done this to us before, Finnigan,' added Tiernan. 'I notice Sean's group never faltered, but us—'  
'That's not true—' defended Seamus.

'We always get the shittiest assignments,' claimed Derrick.

'You're supposed to stay there 'til the end of this week!' Seamus was furious that they had disobeyed his orders.

'No one's there,' said Derrick.

'There was no point to stay there another hour let alone 'til the end of the week!' said Tiernan.

'This wasn't optional, Nolan!' spat Seamus. Though Tiernan was older and taller than him, Seamus stood his ground. 'When I tell you to do something, I expect it to be done. No questions asked.'

'This is such shite,' muttered Derrick. He and Tiernan were both more than a few years older than Seamus and it irked them that they had to follow his direction.

'Did I say it was up for debate?' said Seamus, reeling on the Englishman.

'What're you eating the head off him for?!' cried Tiernan.

'Why're you being such a hard neck?!' demanded Seamus, getting in Tiernan's face. 'Him, I can understand since this isn't his cause,' he said, referring to Derrick, 'He's not Irish. But you—' He turned back to Tiernan. 'Starting a fight like some ruddy culchie! Hell, it isn't as if you don't look like one now,' he added blithely, referring to their sullied clothes.

Without second thought, Tiernan punched him.

Seamus stumbled backward and put his hand to his cheek where Tiernan's fist had made contact with his skin. He didn't falter, but grabbed Tiernan by his mucky collar, readying himself to deck him.

'Seamus!' exclaimed Neville as he moved to pull Seamus off the other man.

'Lay off!' growled Seamus, trying to shrug him off.

Neville refused to let him go. 'Oy! Calm down!' He tried to get Seamus to look at him. 'A little help here,' he yelled to the Head of Operations who had been standing there, watching, without getting involved.

Brendan looked unsurely from Derrick and Tiernan to Longbottom, before finally obeying. Though not much larger than Neville, he was able, with Neville's help to drag the pair of fighting Irishmen apart. Derrick looked like he thought Tiernan had gone too far in slugging their leader.

Breathing heavily with rage, Tiernan persisted, 'Were sitting out there for a fecking week, Finnigan. I'm sick of your dead ends.'

'It's not my fault some sources don't pan out,' hissed Seamus.

'Your mother never led us astray,' Tiernan said darkly.

Seamus' frown hardened.

Neville held him fast, knowing the low blow by Tiernan Nolan wasn't beneficial to calming Seamus down at all.

'Me MUM wasn't perfect either, Nolan! Quit talking about her like she was some sort of saintly martyr!'

This shut the other man up.

Seamus breathed deeply, pausing before saying, 'If you don't like the way things're run here, you can bloody well go home.'

Brendan opened his mouth to censor their young leader, but closed it, looking to Derrick.

'Take a load off,' suggested Derrick, giving Tiernan a shaky, but friendly pat on the shoulder. 'Let's wash up and something to eat... We can talk about this later in front of the council.'

Tiernan glared Seamus before agreeing. He and Derrick exited the room.

Once they were gone, Brendan looked to Seamus again, but didn't say anything.

'I'm in charge here,' Seamus stated gruffly. 'I can't have people like him and Glass stepping on me. They need to be censured.'

Neville faced him squarely. 'What you need to do is realise what's important here! Who cares if talks cack about your mum? If he's going to remain a part of this cause—the both of them, Irish or not—if they're going to fight against V-voldemort, then we need all the help we can get! Petty rows aren't going to get us anywhere!'

Seamus was stunned by Neville's admonition. He'd never known Neville to be assertive or confident in anything he did, so for him to be telling Seamus outright anything contrary to his own opinion was shocking. His mouth gaped open for a moment. He then realised that when he was telling the Englishman, Derrick Glass, that he wasn't Irish so he didn't care about their cause that he'd lumped Neville into that category as well. 'I'm sorry.'

Neville shook his head. 'Don't be.' He put a hand on his friend's shoulder. 'You're knackered and stressed out. And I don't blame you for going off your handle at him. It's a shame I didn't let you get your swing in,' he chuckled.

Seamus smiled.

'How 'bout I take over for a bit and you get some well-deserved rest?' Neville offered.

Seamus nodded and put his hand over Neville's on his shoulder. 'Thanks, mate.'


	6. The Last Crusade

Ron stayed with Sean, Edna, and Moira as Muggles in Longford since it was too far to travel all the way back to headquarters. By the time they arrived back, it was late afternoon. Ron thought a lot of the little girl he'd rescued and hoped she'd find a good home. Thoughts of Miss V led to memories of his own little sister. Ginny had been too young to die. It pained him that he hadn't been able to save her. He should have been there to protect her. He knew the past was unchangeable, but that didn't prevent him from wishing things had been different. At least Victoria had a chance now. Perhaps she'd be lucky enough to get a chance to grow up in a time without war.

Ron made his way back to the bedroom Hermione and he was staying in, but instead of finding her, he found a note. So she'd decided to follow the leads on Nathair. Well that was just bloody brilliant, he thought sarcastically. And McGonagall had encouraged it; even better! He folded the note back up and slammed it on the writing desk. There wasn't a bloody thing he could do about it. He couldn't chase after her, since he wasn't sure exactly where she'd gone and demanding that McGonagall, whom he hadn't even realized was in Ireland, tell him where Hermione was wouldn't do a bit of good, so Ron was vexed, to say the least.

Hermione was somewhere out there on the trail of a murderous raving lunatic and there wasn't a damn thing he could do about it! Just a few nights ago she'd been close to tears at how upsetting this man was and now she was off by herself, alone, defenceless—No, he corrected himself, she wasn't defenceless. Hermione was the brightest witch in their class. She'd confronted all sorts of terrible beasts alongside Harry and him over the years. If anyone was capable of taking care of themselves, she was. Hell, she was probably safer alone than he himself was. She knew more spells than Harry and he put together.

Ron knew all of this, but that didn't stop him from worrying. He hadn't been there for Ginny when she needed him and he wouldn't be able to live with himself if something happened to Hermione.  
Seamus popped in. 'Heard you were back,' he said simply. 'You need to debrief.'

Ron tore his eyes away from the folded note he'd been staring at for the past half hour. 'Debrief? What's that?'

'Report back about everything that went on. It's procedure,' explained Seamus. He folded his arm across his middle.

'Right. Sure,' said Ron, still deep in thought. 'Did you know Hermione's left?'

'Yes, of course,' said Seamus. 'Right cross when she found out I sent you to Kilmore Quay. Almost had me head!'

'Sounds like her.'

'Don't tell me you're out for me blood too!'

'No,' said Ron gloomily. 'I'm just worried about her.'

'She'll be back in no time.'

* * *

'What I'm thinking is that it's make sense to lead the Death Eaters down this way,' suggested Neville, indicating the map, 'as this moves away from the settlements.'

'Well done, Neville!' Seamus' face glowed as he clamped a hand on Neville's shoulder. Staring at the map, he said, I didn't see that. It makes perfect sense. They won't know their left from their right!'

Ron's debrief was quick and painless followed by a refreshing shower. When he was all cleaned up and changed, he went looking for Neville. It only took him a few twists and turns before he saw Brendan MacCadain. 'Seen Neville around?' he asked him.

'He's in there,' Brendan indicated the door behind him, 'with Seamus.'

Ron moved toward the door, but Brendan stopped him.

'It's just for the two of them, sorry.'

Ron's brow furrowed but he didn't press the issue. ''Spose I'll just wait here 'til they're done then.' He stood there for what seemed like ages, staring at the closed door. He wondered what they were talking about in there that he was unable to know about. His thoughts were cut short when a woman he didn't recognise came rushing over to them.

'There's been another attack,' she cried, pushing her way past Brendan and into the room, the door shutting firmly behind her.

Less than a minute later, Seamus and Neville appeared, followed by the woman. 'Neville, have Nolan and Glass go with you—' He turned and caught Ron's glance as they walked swiftly from the room and down the hallway. 'Up for it Ron?'

'For what?' answered Ron, a bit confused as he hurried to catch up with them.

Neville spoke up. 'Roscommon was hit, just as we thought.' He exchanged wary glances with MacCadain who shook his head. 'As soon as we get a hold of Teirnan and Derrick's group, we're leaving.'

'All right,' agreed Ron. If they needed him, then he'd be there.

After Teirnan's group was assembled, Seamus put Neville in charge of the mission and Ron tagged along. They made for the outpost in Roscommon and arrived by portkey within a half an hour of the notification of attack. They were in time to find Death Eaters still lurking about.

* * *

Despite all the maps and plans, it had all gone to Hell.

Why were we sent now? Straight into a trap—hordes of Death Eaters—barely time to react… If you didn't have your wand at the ready, you were at a split-second disadvantage. The killing curse hissed from all direction and the rain certainly didn't help matters. Confusion spells were cast every which way. It was a massacre. Like fish in a bucket, picking us off one by one… Even those screaming for mercy were granted none. Those who tried to flee were killed with their backs turned. Some of the bodies were so distorted by the fire—by the torture—-that their bodies were unrecognizable.

_It won't be long now_, Seamus thought vaguely. Everything had moved so quickly and now it felt like time was at a standstill, moving in slow-motion for a moment, and then rushing past him the next. He was barely able to make out the form of Draco Malfoy towering over him, taunting him.

'It's a pity, really,' mocked Draco. 'We all thought you were dead, but that will come soon enough. Your pathetic band of Irishmen never stood a chance against the Dark Lord's legion of Death Eaters! _Avada_—, oh, but that would be too easy.' He took his wand away from Seamus' temple, giving him a pat on his sweaty head with his free hand. He couldn't have Finnigan die as a martyr. '_Sectumsempra_!'

Seamus cried out in agony.

'Now you'll just have to lay here and bleed to death as you watch the remnants of your forces get slaughter.' Draco adjusted his clothes with an arrogant smirk and left him lying there.

Seamus' vision blurred as he felt the warmth of his own blood seep onto his hand. The sharp pain ebbed as his thought strayed from the present.

_'A Dhia, bronn orm suaimhneas chun glacadh leis na rudaí nach féidir liom a athrú, misneach chun na rudaí a athrú is féidir liom, agus ciall chun an difríocht a aithint.'_

Ever since his parents had decided to fake their deaths and move back to Ireland, Seamus' life had never been the same. Mrs. Finnigan was a very capable, strong-willed, and confident woman. It'd been difficult to accept her death and then for Seamus to attain her status among the WCAV. Though she'd announced explicitly to the elder members that should anything happen to her, Seamus would take her place. When it actually happened, people disagreed about letting Seamus take over.

Torn between respecting his mother's wishes, carrying on her legacy, and mourning her death, Seamus prayed. _'__A Dhia…'_ Within a matter of hours, he knew he couldn't stand by and watch the WCAV disband over trivial matters. There were more important things going on, innocents dying on the countryside… Seamus stood up and took charge, despite the controversy. He proved himself through successive small victories. But the victories didn't save Myrna.

Myrna …she was like a breath of fresh air. Her humour broke through Seamus' most negative times after the death of his mother. It was by his sheer folly that Myrna had been the target of attack. He would never forgive himself.

_'Seamus,'_ said a soft voice.

Not realising his eyes were closed, Seamus opened them to see the shimmering visage of Myrna McCray. Her round face was unusually solemn. 'Myrna…'

_'It wasn't your fault, Seamus,'_ said the vision. _'You can't blame yourself for what happened.'_

'I let you down,' he protested. His hand returned to the wound on his side with a laborious breath.

_'Cop on! The only time you let me down was when you came home so bleeding sossed you couldn't get off with me.'_ Her wavy auburn shook as she laughed.

Seamus smiled at the memory. Pain consumed him, ripping him from the vision of Myrna back to reality.

_Hail Mary, full of grace…_

'Seamus!' called Brendan as Death Eaters surrounded him. 'Seamus!'

The green cloud of death overtook their Head of Operations and Seamus closed his eyes against it. They were losing. He'd failed Neville, Brendan, the WCAV, Harry, his mum…

_Better to pass boldly into that other world, in the full glory of some passion, than fade and wither dismally with age... _

He knew his wounds were able to heal if someone took him to the wizarding hospital, but no one would be left alive to care whether he lived. He knew he was going to die. 'Oh God,' he prayed, 'Jesus, Mary…Holy Mother of God…'

'Pray for us sinners, now and at the hour of our death…'

'Get up, Seamus!' It was his mother's voice.

'Ma?' he asked, blinking his eyes open.

Suddenly, the thought that Neville was still alive and that he needed Seamus' help overcame him. Unaware of the force driving him, Seamus pulled himself to his feet, ignoring the severe pain in his side, and drove himself forward. His bloody hand gripped his wand tightly, holding it unwaveringly in front of him as he marched into swarm of Death Eaters secret hideout thingy

He killed each one he saw until he spotted Neville and bound to a stiff, upright chair.

'Seamus?' he gasped, seeing his mortal wounds. He himself close to unconsciousness from the torture he'd undergone.

After freeing Neville, he collapsed.

'Seamus! No, no, no…Seamus, you're going to be OK. Come on, we've got to get out of here…'

'You did good, Neville,' he murmured before his eyes closed.

'Seamus!' Neville cried, tears brimming in his eyes as he held his friend in his arms. No one was around. He figured the Death Eaters had moved on since the Dark Mark hovered ominously in the sky.


	7. Reprieve

Neville sat outdoors at a café back in Scotland, sipping on a hot mug of tea while half-heartedly flipping through a local newspaper. It was the memories of Natalie that brought him back to Kirkaldy, the reason why it would forever remain his home. Things had settled down after Harry destroyed Voldemort, but Neville didn't once regret that he hadn't been there to see it. So many people had died. The victory was a bittersweet one and Neville was just glad that it was over and that no one else would have to die for their cause. He knew it was his duty to be there, to help his friends one last time. But now it was over and Neville wanted nothing more than to return to his beloved's arms.

Looking up from the paper and his half-eaten sandwich, Neville looked across the street where a taxi squealed to a stop. A woman stepped out of the taxi, adjusting her scarf as she bent to pay for the ride. She stood up as the taxi drove off and met Neville's eyes.

It was Natalie. _His_ Natalie.

Neville's heart stopped in his chest. _What should I do?_ he thought. _What should I say? What can I say? _

Natalie smiled at him as she headed into the café.

She had smiled at him! Of course, she hadn't recognised him. If only there were a way for him to reverse the Obliviation! But perhaps in time, he could explain all of it to her, after she got to know him again...

With courage, Neville stood and entered the café, standing behind her where she waited in line to have her order taken. 'I don't suppose you would like to join me for lunch?' he asked politely.

'Who are you?' she asked, giving him the once-over twice. She could have sworn she knew him. '

'I'm Neville,' he said politely, reaching out a hand to shake hers, 'Neville Longbottom.'

'Nice to meet you,' the young woman said. 'You're English, aren't you?'

Neville nodded. 'But I live here now. Kirkcaldy is home.'

'I'm Natalie Hayes and yes, I would love to join you for lunch.'

After she ordered, the pair went back outside, even though it was a bit chilly. Neville couldn't take his eyes off her, since it had been so long, so many months since he last saw her.

'Do I know you? You seem awfully familiar. Did we go to school together or something?' she wondered.

This was a hard question for Neville to answer, but he slipped his hand over hers which rested on the table and said, 'I'd like to get to know you better...if you'll let me of course.'

Her blush belied her agreement to this, unaware just why she so easily fell for this man she had only just met.

'If you want, maybe we could do something like go for a walk or watch a movie sometime,' he suggested.

Neville knew she didn't remember him, but her smile gave him hope that everything would work out as it should.

_'Since Johnny has gone and left me no man on earth I'll take,_  
_ Down in some lonesome valley I'll wander for his sake.'_  
_ Young Johnny hearing her say so he could no longer stand,_  
_ He fell into her arms crying, 'Betsy, I'm that man,_  
_ I am that faithful young man and whom you thought was slain,_  
_ And since we met on Claudy banks we'll never part again.'_

* * *

A/N: Song credit: 'Claudy Banks' 3 April 1952 by Seamus Ennis at Peacehaven in Sussex for the BBC Sound Archives Library. Claudy (from the Irish: Clóidigh meaning "Sandy River Banks")


End file.
